


Movie Night

by Hoodoo



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Movie Night, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Roleplay, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 18:26:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13370553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodoo/pseuds/Hoodoo
Summary: You expected to get down and dirty. Rick wants to watch a movie. Irreconcilable differences?





	Movie Night

You yawn.

Rick, his eyes sharp like a hawk’s, looks over to you.

“I’m just a little tired,” you tell him, hurriedly.

“Right. Tired, or-or bored?”

You shrug peevishly and opt for the truth. “Fine. I’m _bored._ This movie isn’t the genre I like. It’s not very good, either. Like a rip off of a direct-to-video, Steven Segal debacle.”

Rick pauses the movie. The image on the screen is frozen while the hero is suiting up for a one-man take down a huge gang of murderous convicted criminals in a walled off Los Angeles to save the president’s daughter, or something. The plot had been pretty thin.

He turns away from the screen and looks dead in your eye.

“This is _Jan Michael Vincent,”_ he tells you, enunciating each word like that is supposed to turn your opinion around.

“Oh, _okay,”_ you reply eloquently, with as much sarcasm you can add to three syllables.

It doesn’t make you appreciate his taste in the cinematic arts. It didn’t help that you had a different idea of leisure activity tonight: namely, fucking. You’d specifically worn a white, button down shirt opened enough to showcase the top of your push up bra and tied in a knot just below your tits, a tiny, plaid, pleated skirt, and knee-high socks. Your panties were simple white cotton. You’d even pulled your hair into matching pigtails. The ultimate, stereotypical school girl look. You’d hoped to surprise him.

Rick hadn’t even acknowledged it. He swaggered in, his lips attached to his flask, dropped in a loose sprawl on your couch, and announced there was a great movie that he wanted to watch. That you _had_ to see. You’d been sitting beside him on the couch since then, being bored and horny.

Rick scowled, and didn’t wipe his chin.

Uh-oh. Those were tell-tale signs he was annoyed.

“Come here.”

“No.”

“I said, _come here.”_

“And I said no!”

You sit back against the cushions in defiance.

That scowl deepens, and in an explosion of movement, Rick grabs you. You struggle a little, but his age belies a wiry strength and he hauls you to where he requested you be.

He manhandles you until you’re lying face down on the couch, and your hips are over his lap.

“Rick—what—“

He grabs you by the back of your head to keep you in place and snarls, “You should have listened when I told you to come here. You need some _discipline.”_

His free hand slips up the tops of your thighs and pushes your short skirt up to expose your ass. He gives it a sharp, resounding smack.

Your struggles stop as you gasp at the sudden pain.

He smacks you again.

“Oh!”

His large hand strikes your ass again and again. The thin panties you wore offer no protection and you can feel the shape of his palm with each blow. Each one makes you jerk and cry out, and spread your thighs wantonly. You stop struggling after the third or fourth slap, although Rick doesn’t release your head.

“You need to learn to _respect your elders,”_ Rick grunts, timing each word with the rhythm of his hand. “You young people to-today—you have no _discipline—“_

When your ass feels like it’s swollen and you’re on the verge of tears, he stops. His fingers ghost along the redness he knows he’s made, even if it can’t be seen through your underwear. Then, because your legs are spread, he slips them down between, over your cotton-encased pussy.

“You’re so wet,” he announces, like you didn’t know. He releases your hair, but you don’t try to get up, only move your head to look up sideways towards him. “Did that-that spanking turn you on? Do you think that was what it was for?”

That’s a trick question, but you lift your hips a little, putting more of yourself on shameless display.

“Such a slut,” Rick tells you, in a voice that sounds a little bored, a little disappointed.

When you glance up at him, worried by his tone that he was serious, you see a small smile lift the corners of his lips. You can also feel his cock, stiff in his pants, pressing into your lower belly. So maybe he’s not as annoyed as he’s trying to pretend to be.

“What I did was supposed to be a _correction._ But you have so little self-control your pussy’s dripping. Isn’t it? You can’t help but get off on anything I do to you—“

You can play this game. Rick makes it easy, because his fingers haven’t stopped caressing you through your panties, sliding up and down the damp fabric in a relentless, teasing motion. You moan and agree wordlessly.

“Hips up, slut.”

Bracing yourself with your knees and elbows, this time you quickly do as he orders. Deftly he tugs your panties down to your knees, and you wiggle to get them off one leg. Then you settle back over his lap. He doesn’t touch your skirt, just leaves it hiked up to your waist. Now that you’re exposed, he traces the mark he’s made. It smarts and you tense up. He advises cryptically,

“You might not want to do that,”

and gives you one last, stinging slap.

The pain flares and you yelp but before you can react any further, Rick shoves two fingers in your cunt.

You yelp again in a different tone. He finger-fucks you hard, occasionally curling his fingers inside you. Despite his best efforts, the angle isn’t quite right to find your g-spot. You don’t care; you mewl and gasp and angle your hips up to meet him, chasing an orgasm.

He’s mumbling some words too—encouragement, you hope, but it may just be complaints he’s missing his movie and curses directed at you for it—but you can’t make them out through the pounding of blood in your ears.

On one outward stroke, he adds a third finger, stretching your pussy on the way back in. You buck and all is lost in a white haze of bliss as you come.

Rick leaves his hand in place while your pussy spasms around him. When the muscle contractions reduce, he slowly withdraws his hand, leaving you feeling hollow.

Shakily, you push yourself back and sit up. You’re disheveled and flushed, and your ass cheek is burning.

Keeping his soaked hand up and away for a moment, Rick uses his chin to indicate his erection.

“You gonna do s-something about that? It ain’t gonna suck itself.”

You don’t hesitate to free his cock and swallow him whole. You edge him to the brink of orgasm and then leave off to suck the fingers he used on you clean, then go back to blowing him. At some point he hits the play button on the movie again, and the swelling of climactic musical score just so happens to coincide with you finishing him off.

Rick pinches the back of your neck as he comes thickly into your mouth, gasping wordlessly at his release.

Sated, you keep your head in his lap and continue licking the tiny bit of residual come that leaks from him. It’s the climax of the movie too; against all odds the hero finishes his mission and triumphs. You smile sleepily, your face still in Rick’s crotch, and he pets your hair, absorbed again in the screen.

Maybe you _could_ get into action movies.

_fin._

**Author's Note:**

> A nod to the movie "Escape from LA" with Kurt Russell. No disrespect to it; I like the movie but it's ridiculous.


End file.
